


Blessed

by eastfarthing



Category: Hanson
Genre: Halloween, Witchcraft, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-25
Updated: 2011-07-25
Packaged: 2017-10-21 18:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/228049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eastfarthing/pseuds/eastfarthing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taylor Hanson is entranced by a stranger. A stranger who asks him to follow her into the woods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blessed

He stepped into the back alley to avoid the media circus that constantly followed him to Blessed Be, the gothic nightclub he visited every time he went into that town.

The owner, a young woman he guessed to be in her early to mid thirties, had long since taken a liking to him and ordered her bouncers to allow him in, despite his age. The town police never questioned her on allowing someone under 21 in her club. She was one of the most influential women in town. No one dared question her.

He had a powerful aura, she told people, that came from the light in his bright blue eyes. She had searched for him for a long time.

He moved stealthily down the alley in a rush to return to his family. It was already late. He knew if curfew were broken once more, the consequences would greatly outweigh the media reporting his activities to the papers.

She was there. He could sense the familiar movements around him. He had never seen her face, but she followed him everywhere. She was always there, staring at him. He felt her eyes, blue like his, burning into his.

He fascinated her. From afar she had memorized every curve of his body. Learned the way he walked, spoke, moved. She had learned him so well. She knew who he would talk to in the club before he ever made it inside. She wanted to touch his hair. The hair that framed his face perfectly when he stood still and flailed about him like wings when he moved.

"I know you're there." He called out, sending frightened birds soaring back into the dark sky, "who are you?"

"How did you know?" She whispered to him, sending an echo in all directions.

"I can feel you moving around me. You're always near me." He continued to walk forward, knowing he would find her soon. "You're always staring at me. You follow every step I make in this town. Who are you?"

An unnatural shifting of the clouds that hung above his head allowed a bright beam of light to reveal to him the face of the person that hovered around him. She was young-near his age. Her eyes were blue like his; only there was something different about looking into her eyes, something captivating. She was dressed in a black leather halter that looked painted on with a pair of flare leg jeans. Blue flames were painted on at the hem of her pants. Her belly button was pierced with a fire-red strangely shaped stone.

She glared at him, looking for a weakness she could take advantage of.

"Who are you?" He asked again.

"What's a good Christian kid like you doing in a place like this?" She shifted sharply to escape the light, leaving him to once again feel alone in the darkness, "didn't they tell you we were evil?"

"Do no harm." He told her, "that is the first law of Wicca, isn't it? For everything you give out comes back on you three fold?"

"Very good." She was satisfied. He was the one she needed.

She stepped in front of him, placing her hands on the back of his neck, sharply pushing his face towards hers. Sinful enchantment coursed through his veins as his tongue became entangled with hers. Her taste remained on his lips when she pulled away and he longed for her to do it again.

"I want to take you some where." She told him like she was confessing a secret, "will you go with me?"

He nodded without ever thinking of the consequences.

She led him through the empty streets of the town. The cobblestone roadways were only illuminated by the light of the full moon hung like an ornament in the sky. He followed her to the woods just behind a small, abandoned housing tract.

She continued on into to the trees with the boy at her heals. She knew it had to be this one. They had searched for years for someone to complete their circle. Every move he made, she watched. When her eyes were closed, one of the others watched and waited for the right time. Till that night, at that moment, he stood in the palms of her hands.

Briar patches scratched his arms leaving painful stings, but he gave them no attention. He continued on as though time had been suspended, hoping the journey would not take much longer. He thought about who the girl must really be, why she was taking a stranger so far from civilization that he could no longer hear the sounds of cars or people moving about. But most of all, why was he following this stranger? She had some power over him that he could not understand.

"We're almost there." She told him, "my friends will be very happy to see you. We've waited a long time for you."

He continued closely behind her, speechless. He wanted to say something to her, ask her where they were going, why her friends were waiting for him, but nothing came out right. So, he continued on with her game of follow-the-leader, almost wishing he had just gone home.

"We're here!" She announced upon entering a large clearing in the trees.

"It's about time!" A sandy haired boy laughed, "we were beginning to think we were alone for this."

A middle-aged woman approached him, "you're here!" She smiled. It was the club owner. "Finally, our work can be finished."

He was confused. He looked over at the girl. His strength had been drained by the long trek; he couldn't force himself to ask any questions. Instead, he looked from face to face, praying he might find some sign of what they were talking about.

The second young woman handed him a cup, "thirsty?" She gave him an inviting smile. He nodded with a gracious smile. She was quite pretty, he thought. She had long dark hair and deep green eyes. She was thin and dressed in a long, black, sleeveless dress.

He drank the cool, pale pink liquid greedily; it tasted like mangos. As he swallowed the final drop, all feeling in his body drained away. His legs became numb, causing him to fall helpless to the ground.

The girl smiled, "it's okay." She whispered to him, "we're not going to hurt you." She looked at the others standing around her, "move him."

The three faces hovered above him as they shoved their arms under his limp body. She placed her hands on the side of his face and walked with them. She looked admirably at him as though he had done a great thing by following her into those woods.

Without warning, he sensed his body being lowered to the ground. She kneeled above his head.

"We need your help." She told him, "we've tried for years to cast a spell to avenge the death of my mother. They killed her for being a witch and then buried her here, where we practice. We have to have a fifth, it has to be today, and it has to be you. Or we have to wait another year, allowing one more person to breathe the air of the earth my mother so dearly loved."

"Do no harm?" He sputtered up at her.

She smiled proudly, "I'm not that kind of witch!"

The boy handed her a sword. She stood above him, making several passes over him, chanting in a language he had never heard. Finally, she stopped, diving the sword hard into the ground above his head.

Carefully, she pulled the necklaces from around his neck, tossing them into the dirt beside an old tree. The young boy handed her a long piece of black leather with a silver pendant around it-a pentagram.

"Don't be scared." The boy told him, "I was just like you, once."

"And now he's perfect!" The older woman smiled.

No one said anything more to him after that. She took a black marble-handled dagger from the boy. Each of the other women took his arms, pulling them away from his body. She straddled him and sat down on his stomach.

He wanted the strength to get away. His brain told his body to move, yet nothing happened. He was stranded.

In horror he watched as the women cut unfamiliar symbols into his arms. His eyes moved spastically about and he noticed that all four of them had the same symbols cut into their arms. They were trying to make him one of them.

Once finished, they stood in unison. She admired the symbols she had cut into his chest. He was forever hers. No matter where he went, he would always belong to her.

Each clasped hands around him and began to repeat over and over the same rhythmic chant she had used with the sword. Their voices grew louder and louder as they began to step away from him. When their hands let go, and unnatural light flew down from the treetops. It was red and cast itself through his body. The group backed away. They were nearly finished.

He began to rise from the ground. The higher his body lifted the more rays of light shot through him. He began to feel again and he felt pain. Extreme pain.

"Dear God, help me?" He whispered with the last of the strength in his body.

He fell with a hard thud back to the earth. With a sudden burst of energy, he ran blindly towards the woods. They boy followed quickly behind him. He was soon caught and thrown head first into a tree.

"Alexi, NO!" She screamed, "Let him go!"

"We can't let him go Trista! He's our only hope!" He protested.

"Let him go now, Alexi!" She demanded again.

Alexi turned his captive loose.

He ran through the woods. He ran until he could no longer hear them fighting.

"Now what?" Alexi grunted.

"He'll be back." She assured him.

"You don't know that!" He snapped.

She nodded her head confidently, "he will be back."
    
    
    *	*	*

  


A young nurse walked passed the ICU waiting room to see her young patient's family staring intently at the television in front of them.

"Taylor Hanson found near death-next on MTV news!"

She glanced over to who she assumed were his brothers.

The long-haired blonde looked at the other, "Taylor Hanson," he mocked, "was found early this morning on a river back after a wild night partying!"

The other boy with short dark blonde hair shoved him in the shoulder, "Zac, you know better than that! You'll freak mom out!"

The two returned their attention to the television.

"Taylor Hanson," the anchor repeated, "keyboardist of the pop trio, Hanson, was found bruised, scarred, and unconscious on a river bank outside Salem, Massachusetts early this morning…." He continued on with the report, but she was torn away to continue her tasks.

"The Hanson boy is awake." The head nurse told her as she returned some documents to the desk, "go check his vitals, and report back to me. We'll tell the doctor, then is family."

"Alright." She nodded.

She padded lightly back to his room. She had watched his beautiful face all that morning, praying for him to wake so that she might once again see his beautiful blue eyes. Despite his scars and bruises, he was still the most amazing thing she had ever seen. She stepped quietly into the room and took on last look before she made her presence known.

He looked up at her. The face was so familiar, but he could not remember why.

"Good afternoon. I'm here to take your vitals." She smiled innocently, "my name is Trista."


End file.
